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The blood rushing to my head doesn’t make digging through my clutch upside down easy. “You could put me down,” I huff.
“I could. But I’m not.” He holds out his hand, waiting for the key.
I place the key in his hand. “You’re so romantic,” I snicker. It results in another swat to my ass. Heat spreads across my face and I’m thankful he can’t see me. I shouldn’t like it, but holy shit, desire surges through me, starting with the sting on my ass.
When he slides me down his body, he leans me against my door. I drop my clutch to the side and he drops my keys. He focuses on my mouth and runs his thumb across my bottom lip. “These lips could heal a dying man,” he rasps. The way he says it, profoundly intense, I wonder what's on his mind. With a slight tilt to my head, his eyes flash to mine.
“I thought I was the one about to die in this story?” I say to lighten the sudden serious mood. He shakes his head, snapping out of his thoughts. He smirks and slowly runs his hands down my arms. When he gets to my wrists, he grips them, moving them over my head.
“Ecstasy induced death. It might be a thing.”
“God, I hope,” I say, sounding a little too desperate. He hums when I let my head settle back against the door and close my eyes.
“God has nothing to do with this.” He seizes both my hands with one of his and snakes his other one down my waist to the hem of my snug dress. His fingertips graze my hypersensitive skin and I shiver. “Fuck, Ellie,” he breathes heavily on my neck. “I’m trying so hard to take this slow.” His chest heaves against my aching breasts.
“Slow is overrated,” I whisper. I don’t need slow or gentle. I need him. “Unzip my dress.”
He lets go of my hands, and I fold them around his neck, leaning forward into him so he has plenty of room. With the speed of a racer getting out of a burning car, my dress is pooling at my feet, we’re entangled in a frantic case of hungry kisses, and drowning with need. He lifts me up and carries me to my bedroom. It surprises me when I hit the soft bed we didn’t run into anything since our mouths never came up for air.
It’s not until he stands and the frosty air hits me while he reaches back to pull off his shirt, do I realize I’m laying almost naked, overhead lights glaring down on me like a spotlight. The vulnerability of the situation is heavy as I grab the throw blanket. He watches me as I cover my stomach, his brows pinch in confusion. I swallow, not wanting this to be a thing.
He crawls back on top of me, the soft blanket acts as a barrier between us and he kisses me until my body relaxes, just past the point of forgetting about being naked. He knows too because his hand slips the cover out from between us. I grip it when it’s almost out.
“Uh-uh,” he whispers, taking hold of my hand and peeling the blanket out from my fingertips. I close my eyes, steadying my breathing. I guess baring your soul isn’t as easy as one thinks. “Look at me, Ellie.” I chew the inside of my cheek, a storm of emotions brewing inside my heart. “You’re so beautiful. You need to get out of your head.” He lifts my hands again. “Keep them here,” he demands. I nod but keep my eyes closed. Seeing pity or worse, a recoil reaction, would not only ruin tonight, but it’d break me.
As his lips skim the small scar on my chest, I fist the comforter underneath me knowing he’s yet to see the others. Every muscle in my body tenses when he moves down. Soft kisses graze the tops of my breasts, and I can’t help but smile when he groans. But it fades fast when he continues his path. The air conditioner kicks on, blowing ice cold air on my clammy face. I'm about to faint. The five-inch scar across my stomach, that doesn’t have feeling, is sparking to life as Kase drags his lips across it.
“What’s this mean?” He scrapes his finger up my side, over my tattoo and I shiver.
“Sii la luce che ti guida,” I whisper in Italian. “It means be the light that leads you.” I chance looking down to catch his expression. He nods twice while tracing the sentence with his finger, seemingly deep in thought.
“I like it. Do you speak Italian?”
“No,” I grin. “But I liked how it sounded in Italian.”
When he climbs back up my body and kisses me again, I'm able to release the breath I was holding.
“I’m not done,” he murmurs. “I’m just getting started.” The muscles that had just relaxed coil tightly around his words.
Stop thinking and just feel.
I push the insecurities, the darkness that looms right behind them out of my head. He’s seen the scars and still wants more. That’s enough to release the tension I’m harboring. He reaches behind my back and pops open my bra with one hand, slipping it up my arms and throws it to the side. I thread my fingers through his hair and pull him to my mouth in a hungry kiss, craving the intoxicating feeling I get when he kisses me. Where I drown in his taste and nothing else matters.
He makes good on his promise and worships my entire body with sweet kisses and soft praises. His touch seeps into my skin, tranquilizing my fractured soul. He’s healing me from the outside, in. By the time he’s done, my body is buzzing with desire and my mind is too fuzzy to worry about anything.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, nibbling my ear, my skin pebbles with goosebumps. “Your body is the fuel to my storm. The heat is so intense, I’ve never wanted a woman more than I do right now.”
I swallow his words, and whimper as they spread heat inside me. It’s been months since I’ve been with a man but I never remember it being like this. My nails curve along his broad shoulders, down his muscular back and his whole body shudders, his fingers dig into my hips as he lets out a low hum.
He moves from my lips down my chest and I cry out when he engulfs my breast into his hot, hungry mouth, sucking, while his fingers pinch my other nipple. He’s done with the tender endearments and has proceeded straight to ravenous hunger.
My body’s buzzing with the desperation to feel each other. The feel of his muscular body underneath my hands makes me feel powerful. This perfect man wants me. My eyes roll back when his tongue circles my swollen clit and I moan at the delicious shiver it causes. He holds on to my thighs as he licks and sucks, my body is on fire as I beg him to stop, and then keep going. Unintelligible words and sounds slip from my mouth as my orgasm pulses through me.
He growls when he comes up, wiping my wetness off with his hand. “You taste like candy.” I laugh, doubting it’s true. He leans down with a wicked gleam in his eye.
“You don’t believe me? Taste,” he murmurs against my lips. I open and his tongue dances with mine in a heated kiss. It consumes our air, the erotic xxx of tasting myself on his tongue robs all my inhibitions. I moan against his lips as I wrap my legs around him, his hard cock rubbing against my wet center.
He pushes up, kneeling between my spread legs as he puts on a condom. It’s sexy as hell watching him grab his heavy cock in his hands. When he slides into me with ease, he grips my thighs. Hard. His nostrils flare as his control slips. He pulls back as he begins moving in and out of me. My groans get caught in my throat whenever he pushes into me full tilt, the feeling devouring my senses.
